the poor dancing girl she won't dance again

‘If I should die,’ said I to myself, ‘I have left no immortal work behind me - nothing to make my friends proud of my memory - but I have lov’d the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remember’d.’ - John Keats

“Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.” - Kurt Vonnegut

28. screenwriter. watcher of movies. taco lover extraordinaire. drinker of coffee. listener of music. I am obsessed with classic films, contribute to YAM Magazine, run this site: and do social media for Warner Bros. and Rotten Tomatoes. Opinions are all my own.

How To Be A Screenwriter

Wishlist // listography // 2014 in Films // 2014 in people getting hitched // 2014 in Books // About Me // film rec lists

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Don’t let the New York Times article about the brilliant success of Wellesley graduates in the business world fool you—there’s still a glass ceiling. Don’t let the number of women in the work force trick you—there are still lots of magazines devoted almost exclusively to making perfect casseroles and turning various things into tents.

Don’t underestimate how much antagonism there is toward women and how many people wish we could turn the clock back. One of the things people always say to you if you get upset is, don’t take it personally, but listen hard to what’s going on and, please, I beg you, take it personally. Understand: Every attack on Hillary Clinton for not knowing her place is an attack on you. Underneath almost all those attacks are the words: Get back, get back to where you once belonged. When Elizabeth Dole pretends that she isn’t serious about her career, that is an attack on you. The acquittal of O.J. Simpson is an attack on you. Any move to limit abortion rights is an attack on you—whether or not you believe in abortion. The fact that Clarence Thomas is sitting on the Supreme Court today is an attack on you.

Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim. Because you don’t have the alibi my class had—this is one of the great achievements and mixed blessings you inherit: Unlike us, you can’t say nobody told you there were other options. Your education is a dress rehearsal for a life that is yours to lead. Twenty-five years from now, you won’t have as easy a time making excuses as my class did. You won’t be able to blame the deans, or the culture, or anyone else: you will have no one to blame but yourselves. Whoa.

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